One Night and Everything Changes
by Guitargirl222
Summary: Post-Hogwarts. Draco has his own flat and a perfect life. Hermione's life is in shambles. She seeks comfort, he seeks cuddling. Ehh, they can find a happy medium… Don't really know why it's rated M, but just in case...
1. Shatters

It was cold. It was dark, it was wet, and it was dreadful. Draco Malfoy was perfectly content with this. It was his favorite kind of weather. Of course, he wasn't outside in this weather; he was nestled snugly underneath his dark blue comforters that we're pulled up to his chin. He was dreaming peacefully of how perfect his life was right now.

He had a date with Pansy Saturday night, he was seeing a wizard Sunday to see about getting his Dark Mark removed, and he was having Belgian Waffles for breakfast tomorrow. Perfect.

It was a dreadful evening, and Draco could hear the wind howling against his window. He nestled further beneath the covers and was dreaming about a Pansy-sized waffle, when there was a sudden knock on the door.

It was an urgent rapping, like someone was trying to get his attention desperately. Like someone had been traveling for a long time. In the pouring rain and violent winds...

Draco suddenly remembered the weather. And Pansy. And his mother distinctly telling him that she would visit him on Thursday evenings...

He threw the covers off him, threw some long pants on and shuffled quickly down the stairs. He ran to the door and stopped just before he opened it to turn around and look in the mirror hanging on the wall by the door. He ran a hand through his already messy hair, making it look worse, to depict his rough slumber, and forcefully opened the door to neither his mother nor Pansy.

It was Hermione Granger.

Draco had not seen her since their seventh year at Hogwarts. He had gotten a job working to sell unique items in Diagon Alley, so as to avoid taking over his late father's business, or a job with the Ministry and Minister of Magic, who only thought of him as his father. The entire world saw Draco as a miniature version of his no-good father, Lucius, who would have traded his only son to please the Dark Lord and actually did.

Hermione was different, though. She had loyal, loving parents that had died during all the commotion with the reviving Voldemort. She was the brightest witch of their year, and At this point, Draco thought, probably has a job at the Ministry.

Hermione looked up at him feebly. "Ca-can I come in?" She looked up at him with big brown doe eyes. They were red and puffy. Draco suspected that she had been crying.

She was soaking wet, and her hair was a mess. She dragged a purple suitcase behind her, and shuddered, but then cocked her head sideways, wincing, as if willing her body to stop.

Draco saw this and put an arm around her and led her inside. He closed the door gently behind him and Hermione looked up at Draco's home. He brushed past her and started the fireplace.

It was a nice, large apartment, though Hermione expected nothing less for a Malfoy... The walls were a brown color, with olive green vines as decoration. The vines (as Hermione would soon learn) covered every wall in the house, as a symbol of Draco's favorite part of the Slytherin common room. The wall colors were brown, white, and light blue, depending on the room. The favorites of Draco (His bedroom, the study, and the family room) were all light blue, the almost unnecessary rooms were brown (the guest room, the storage room, and the living room), and the rooms that served a specific purpose (the bathrooms, and the kitchen), were white.

After the fireplace was lit and burning brightly, Draco walked back over to Hermione. She was peering around the room through her hair, which seemed to stick out in all directions. He laughed gently and brushed some out of her way, so he could see her face.

He cupped her cheek gently, and smiled looking into her eyes. She smiled meekly before her face fell again and she sank to her knees. Draco's eyes widened and he suddenly registered that she had fallen to the floor and frantically tried to catch her before she fell, but failed.

Hermione fell to her knees and brought her hands to her face and began to cry. She couldn't help it. Her week had been awful.

She had a difficult, positively awful case she had been working on at the Ministry, and returned home to her "loving husband" who was, at the exact moment she walked in, loving someone else. And the memory of that was enough to start the tears flowing down her cheeks, for the fourth time today.

She cried when she remembered the scowling face of Pansy Parkinson turning around to say "Bet I bloody shag better than the mudblood too!" and cackling before returning her attention to Ron's growing member, licking her lips.

She cried when the people who she was working with on her case began to argue about where to start planning their client's wedding to the Minister's only son.

She cried when she was in the cab on her way to central England, not having the faintest idea as to where she was going to spend the night.

And then she remembered Draco.

She remembered she had the invitation to his flat warming party in her suitcase from the last time she travelled. She couldn't attend because she was leaving town on Ministry business, but when she remembered the card she handed it to the cabbie and wiped the tears from her cheeks, thinking at least she'd have somewhere to stay the night.

And she cried now, realizing that at some point, she'd have to tell Draco what she was doing here, and she'd have to explain all of her personal problems to the man who had spent 6 and 1/2 years making her life a living hell.

And that was too much for even her. She broke down crying and didn't stop until she felt a large, muscular arm wrap around her shoulders.

She looked up into the worried eyes of Draco Malfoy and melted a little bit. Her tears didn't stop, but she smiled softly when he wipes them from her cheeks.

She looked at the floor, blushing and smiling a little, as he planted a kiss delicately on her forehead.

When she looked back up at him he was staring at the spot on her forehead where his lips had been a second ago. His face was expressionless, but cool. As her smile faded and she looked up at him, he smiled down at her and wrapped his other arm around her waist, pulling her into a careful hug.

She smiled as the tears started flowing again. He squeezed her for just a moment, and then released her, cupping her cheek once again, and wiping her tears away with his thumb. They just stared into each others eyes for just a second before Draco broke the silence.

"It's late. We should probably get some sleep..." He tilted his head slightly, and gave her a sympathetic smile.

She nodded in response, and laughed away her tears, with the help of Draco's thumb as well.

He helped her up and took her coat off her, and then gently took her hand and began leading her up the stairs, a sudden thought hitting him.

"Umm... Hermione?" He began, giving her a sheepish, yet adorable smile, to which she smiled back.

"Yes, Draaaaaaco?" Hermione responded in a singsongy sarcastic tone of voice, squeezing his hand tighter.

"I just thought of something..,"

"What's that, Darling?" Hermione was still being very sarcastic in this situation.

"Um. Well, you see, the thing is..." Draco ran a nervous hand through his hair.

"Yeeeeees?"

"I don't really have the guest bed made up, and the storage room is really messy, and all the other places to sleep are sort of uncomfortable..." He rattled on quickly before Hermione cut him off.

She was perplexed by his beating around the bush. "Draco, just come right it and say it." She took another step so she was standing upstairs, and he was a step below.

"The only place that's available to sleep in is my bed." He stepped into the hallway and looked sheepishly at Hermione who was gawking at him.

"You-you you can't be serious!" She was now wide-eyed, and slightly (extremely) angry with him.

"I'm afraid I am, darling." Draco teased as Hermione shook her head in disbelief.

"But I'm not-"

"Oh shut up and get in my bed."

Draco grabbed her wrist and forcefully pulled her down the hall to his bedroom, with a sneaky glint in his eye. He pushed her in, and ran after her, slamming the door behind him.


	2. Sprinkles

**Apologies for the delay, my lovelies! No. I'm not calling you that. It's been done too many times. How about I call you my Dramio-lovelies? Ah well. I'll think of a better title later. Again, apologies for the delay in writing. Cousins are visiting... Yuck. Anyway. They're leaving tomorrow, so hopefully a new chapter soon! P.S. Don't own anything Harry Potter. Just throwin' that out there. **

It was half past seven o'clock in the morning and for the first time in history, Draco was actually happy before the sun rose. Normally, he stayed in until late on the weekends and hated getting up early for his job, despite how much he loved it. But today was special. Today Draco was happy. Today he had something that made the world perfect.

Today, he had waffles.

And Hermione Granger.

Waffles made, topped with whipped cream and strawberries (his favorite), he grabbed a cup of coffee and sat down at the kitchen table. The table was higher than average, but Draco liked it because his feet just barely touched the floor from the high chair, making him feel like a little kid again.

His mother's favorite house elf, Winkle, used to make them just like this, but his mother always put extra strawberries on top for him. He smiled at the memory and dug in, his lips curving further upward with every mouthful he consumed. And then he heard footsteps.

Coming down the stairs and walking into the other room. Draco stopped eating and turned around slowly, not bothering to remove the fork from his mouth.

As if in a daze, Hermione shuffled into the kitchen, rubbed her eyes. Draco relaxed a little, remembering that she had spent the night with him. Her hair was messed up from the wind last night and on top of that, she had been tossing and turning a lot before he covered her.

Hermione vaguely remembered her recurring dream of Bellatrix carving "mudblood" into her arm, but in her dreams, when she did it, she bit Hermione's arm off. She cackled when she saw what she had done to the "disgusting little wizard filth!" and all the Malfoy's laughed behind her.

But last night was different. When Draco and Lucius were about to summon Harry to finish the job under a Cruciatus influence of the Dark Lord, she woke up to a strong arm being wrapped around her.

She opened her eyes and turned over to face Draco, who had unknowingly comforted and stopped her writhing in her sleep.

She was stunned. She rolled back over and just lay there, wide-eyed, for a moment. And then closed her eyes again. She just breathed in his scent and, careful not to wake him, caressed his arm gently.

He was warm and smelled like petrichor. She smiled as she remembered her and her dad dancing around in the rain.

"Do you like being spun around, 'Mione?"

"Aaaah! Yes, daddy!" she giggled as he spun her around in the air, raindrops falling down her face.

"You know what this is called, 'Mione?"

"What?" she giggled as he rested her on his hip. She threw her arms around his neck and giggled, as they were both wet from the rain.

"The smell of dust after rain," he looked up at her with a face that said, "I know something you don't!"

She stared blankly back at him. "No. What's it called!"

He picked her back up and swung her around one more time before putting her down and whispering in her ear.

"Petrichor"

Draco fidgeted slightly beside her. His grip around her waist tightened just enough to make Hermione sigh with pleasure. She snuggled further into his grasp and fell back into a peaceful sleep.

But now here she stood, some eight hours later, and she still flinched slightly when she saw him, despite his goofy, utterly un-Malfoy-esque demeanor.

She stifled a laugh as he turned around with wide grey eyes and a fork hanging out of his mouth. His lips were lightly coated with a whipped cream lip-gloss, and a smear of red from the strawberries.

She saw him relax and he turned back around and pulled the fork out of his mouth, licking his lips, and standing up to greet her with a ridiculously un-Malfoy grin on his face. She smiled faintly in return.

"Good Morning, Sunshine." Draco walked up to her and brushed her messy hair out of her face to kiss her cheek gently. She smiled and wiped her cheek where he had kissed her. Draco took a step back, slightly offended, before Hermione returned his kiss and whispered, "Whipped cream, love," in his ear.

Hermione took a step back and pushed a lock of tangled hair behind her ear as Draco grinned stupidly at her, and blushed, just enough to add a little bit of color to his complexion, which Hermione had no problem telling him a little bit later, to which her responded in blushing even more.

He walked back over to the table to finish his waffles and Hermione got a cup of coffee, filled with vanilla creamer. She then proceeded to take the seat next to him and stole one of his whipped cream-covered strawberries. Draco protested with a muffled cry and a puppy-dog face, which was literally all he could manage with a mouth full of waffle.

Hermione giggled at this sight. It was the most adorable thing Draco had ever heard. It was faint, like the tinkling of bells only sweeter. Like sprinkles. Draco loved sprinkles. It sounded like when you dropped them on the table after decorating cookies. James loved decorating cookies with him.

Every Christmas eve, Draco would go over to the Burrow with Harry, Ginny, Albus, and James. They did everything Draco never got as a child. They decorated the tree and cookies, Arthur read "The Night Before Christmas", a muggle fairy tale about Christmas, Fred and Bill would play jokes on Ron and Fleur, and once, they even went caroling... Terribly.

It was Draco's favorite holiday, because it made him feel like he still had a family. Lucius died during the war, and Narcissa, utterly devastated with the betrayal of her only son going back to the good side, and the death of her beloved husband, disappeared from the wizarding world, and no one has seen her since.

Draco was reminded of this every holiday he ever celebrated; Christmas, Easter, thanksgiving, his birthday, etc. He was reminded that he no longer had a biological family, but Harry and Ginny gladly took over that role. But Draco had yet to tell this to Hermione.

Every time there was a holiday, Hermione and Ginny would, on the day before, have there own little girls day, and then Hermione would lock herself up in the house when Ron came to visit the Burrow. He never stayed long, though, so as he could get back to his distraught wife who always cried on holidays, remembering her parents who had died in the aftermath of the second Wizarding War.

They were both sort of dreading the upcoming holidays. Hermione because it would mean facing Ron, or at least Ginny, and Draco because he knew that if he spent time at the Burrow with Harry and the Weasley's, he would run the risk of an angry Ron ambushing him.

This thought crossing his mind, Draco broke their comfortable silence. "Hey, Granger?"

Hermione sighed. "Draco, won't you please call me Hermione?"

Draco smiled, filling his mouth with another forkful of waffle. "Well, then, Hermione," he liked the way her name felt on his lips.

"Does your husband know you're here?"

Hermione swallowed hard. "Not... Necessarily. Why?"

Draco shook his head and smiled. "Well, you know. Seeing how it's now late November and normally, I spend Thanksgiving with the Weasels.. I was wondering if your Weasel hubby knew you would be joining me instead."

Hermione froze. "Draco was a friend of the Weasley's? Wait... Does he spend all holidays with them? Why had Ron never told me this before?"

As if reading her thoughts, Draco responded. "Ron never said anything about me because... I asked him not to." Draco smiled meekly and winced, waiting for Hermione to slap him, but she simply sat there and gawked at him.

She couldn't believe it. All this time, every single goddamn year, at every goddamn holiday Ron went over there to wish them a happy one and he never once mentioned Malfoy. So what if he had said not to, she was his wife!

She was his wife. She was married. Married to Ron. Married to Ron who had cheated on her, and so she had spent the night with Draco Malfoy. In his flat, in his bed.

Hermione finally pieced everything together.

Ron had lied.

Lied about a number of things. Lied abut being faithful to her by cheating on her with Pansy, lied about everything being normal at the Burrow, because Hermione certainly didn't think Draco Malfoy becoming a family friend was normal.

And he had lied to her. To his wife. To her, Hermione Granger, Ronald Weasley's wife. "Thank Merlin I didn't change my name..." she thought to herself, suddenly realizing that Draco was staring at her with a worried expression on his face.

She had begun to cry.

He had no idea what to do.

Draco had never really been good at consoling women, but with Hermione, he felt like he should be the one helping her. He should be the one helping her with her parents' death, the one helping her with the upcoming holiday stress, the one helping her with Ron...

And then he remembered Ron. He remembered the freckled, arrogant, red-headed boy from his own year who had grown up to marry the woman standing in his kitchen who was wearing one of his larger T-shirts, and pajama pants with polar bears on them. He smiled at the thought of what she would look like without the polar bear pants...

And immediately shook the idea away when the tears started flowing. He had been studying her expression, which had been blank and then loving, then slowly started to fall to utterly distraught. And then the tears. They streamed down her face like there was no tomorrow.

And Hermione lost it. She fell, well, more like crumpled, onto the table and just started sobbing. Draco, startled by this, leapt out of his chair, causing Hermione to look up and whimper slightly.

Draco walked over to her and put his arm around her. He squeezed her to his chest and Hermione gratefully leaned into it. They sat there like that for what seemed like ages as Hermione cried her troubles away into Draco's nice white shirt.

That he was wearing for work. Which he had to get to in an hour.

This sudden realization hitting him, he swayed Hermione off his body and was backing away slowly when Hermione tugged at his shirt.

She had grabbed a handful of it, and was looking up at him with wet, pleading eyes. He understood that she didn't want him to leave, but he gently took her hand in his, removing its grasp on his shirt, and kissed it before helping her up to look at him eye-to-eye.

"I have to leave soon." Draco murmured softly to Hermione, resting his forehead on hers. That was apparently the wrong thing to say.

She crashed into him and buried her face in his shirt, which was damp from her tears. "Don't go. Please, take me with you...," Hermione looked up at him with desperation in he eyes. So Draco reluctantly agreed, and once she was clothed with the proper attire of his job, they drove to Diagon Alley, Hermione, silently baffled by Draco's amazing handle on his car.

"Welcome to my shop!" Draco exclaimed, dramatically flinging the door open to a small, ancient-looking shop, filled with pots and kettles and strange wizard trinkets, as well as some old furniture.

Hermione began to laugh. Draco Malfoy, the Draco Malfoy, the Draco Malfoy that had so mercilessly teased her at Hogwarts, was now the proud owner of a pawnshop for wizards.

And Hermione thought it was downright hilarious that this is what he had become. But he didn't care that she laughed. Everybody did. But this is what he loves most. And she sounded like sprinkles. And he loved sprinkles.

**I'm tempted to rename this Fic "Sprinkles" but I wany all of your opinions on it first! Message me or review with your opinion. I'd _love_ to hear!**

**Love**,

**The Guitar Girl**


	3. Roses

"Welcome to Trinkets and Treasures," Draco took Hermione's hand and led her around the shop. The front window was filled with small clay animals and pots, to her left, a little sitting room filled with furniture with interesting patterns on them, and all around her were strange looking clocks and pots and other random little tchotchke items that you would normally not find in most respectable wizards' homes.

Draco's face was glowing as he explained his everyday work. "This is where we store everything, and this is the inventory list. Customers _love_ seeing copies of this, and here's...," Draco droned on and on about his work because he thought at least Hermione would appreciate it, and she did.

She loved seeing that Draco didn't need slags or Death Eaters to be happy. He was pleased with his quiet little life as a shopkeeper. Not to mention that these cheesy little things he kept around, that he loved. And somewhere digging inside her, Hermione wanted to be one of those things...

She was lost in thought when Draco cleared his throat. Hermione shook herself out of her thoughts and noticed that he was looking between her and a green statue expectantly.

The statue was a woman, Artemis, the Greek Goddess of Hunt, to be precise. She was Hermione's favorite Greek Goddess. She admired that she was the first goddess to pledge herself to utter chastity, not partaking in any relationship of any kind with any male. Not even a partnership, unless in drastic situations.

Hermione gawked at the sight of the intricately carved designs. Artemis was posed to be aiming her bow and arrow at some forever unknown foe, her hounds beside her, prepared to attack as well. The dress she wore looked as if it were half-armor. There were shoulder pads made into the dress, which fell respectively at her knee.

Hermione thought it was one of the most beautiful things she'd ever seen. But she had barely been able to get this message across to Draco before had continued walking and explaining more things.

As they reached the end of the "tour", Draco was pulling boxes off the shelves in a large room in the back of the shop. Hermione carefully made her way back there, so as to avoid the flying objects Draco was pulling out. She was walking into the room when something came flying at her head. She ducked just in time as Draco whipped around and yelled a victorious "Aha!"

He was holding a long thin box and fiddling with the lid when Hermione got back up and walked over to him. When the lid came off, the contents of the box were then revealed to be a silver chain necklace with a black rose at the bottom.

Draco beckoned for Hermione to come closer and she pulled her hair into a side ponytail that she held together with only her hands as Draco fastened the necklace around her neck.

The second it was fastened, Draco headed back into the storage room and pulled out a small, square mirror so Hermione could see how the necklace matched with her outfit.

She had a pale blue, long-sleeved top on and black skinny jeans. She was also wearing shiny black flats and her hair was left down in gentle waves cascading down her back. The necklace matched perfectly, which Hermione assumed, was why Draco had pulled it out for her.

When Draco emerged with the mirror and held it up in front of her so Hermione could see, she gasped. The necklace was a beautiful black rose, which was, "coincidentally", her favorite flower.

She brought a hand to the cool metal necklace and spoke softly to Draco. "My favorite flower... How'd you know?" She looked into Draco's steely grey eyes through his reflection in the mirror, but he just smiled and wrapped one arm around her waist, pulling her closer, backwards, into his chest.

"My mum and I used to plant roses in her garden when I was little. When I was seven, I decided that I wanted to name my daughter Rose because I loved them so much. My mum would laugh at me every time I mentioned it and would say 'I'd love to have a granddaughter, 'Mi, but you can wait a little, right?' and we'd both start laughing."

By time Hermione had finished her story, a few stray tears were falling down her cheeks. She quickly wiped them away on the sleeve if her shirt, but Draco pulled her into a one-armed hug, kissing the top of her head.

They stood there in comforting silence before the doorbell buzzed, startling Hermione, who jumped out of Draco's embrace. He set the mirror down on the counter and walked briskly over to the door.

Hermione went around the counter and leaned on it as Draco approached the door. He outstretched his hand, leaning forward to open the door when it suddenly swung open, hitting Draco square in the face. The crack was audible and Hermione screamed and ran over to Draco who was stumbling backwards into the wall.

"I'm heeeeeeeeeeere, Boss! Boss? Where are ya, boss?" The young man who had just burst through the door was holding a key and lanyard in one hand and a very full paper sack in the other. "Boss?"

"Aiden you bloody git! I'll kill you!" Draco snarled murderously as Hermione pushed him back against the wall so she could check his nose.

It appeared to be broken, and he was bleeding badly. Threatening Aiden certainly wasn't helping it, so Hermione had to forcefully convince him to stay quiet. Draco winced in pain when his head hit the brick wall, but stayed quiet so Hermione could fix his nose. That, and he was rather enjoying the view.

Hermione had him more or less pinned against the wall with one hand on his shoulder, the other aiming her wand at his face. Her shirt had a scoop neck which showed off a tantalizing bit of cleavage that Draco didn't want to take his eyes off. Or if he got the chance, his hands...

Aiden liked the view as well. It was a great way to start his weekend. A sexy brunette in revealing, skin-tight clothes pinning his boss up against the wall. Aiden ordinarily would have been offended by Draco's death threat, but the only thought running through his mind was _"Damn, that ass is so fine! Wonder if I can get my hands on it..."_ and then scheming ridiculous ideas of how to deflower the girl until he heard Draco cry out in pain.

Hermione had one hand on Draco's shoulder for balance, but that did nothing to stop her other hand from shaking still. Here he was, the man whose bed she had previously spent the night in, the man who had the most perfectly chiseled features, whose hair was so perfectly untamable...

_"No! Why are you thinking this way? This is Draco Malfoy, the boy who watched you get tortured, and did some slightly less harmful torturing him self. But he's so damn cute! And his lips..."_ Hermione remembered the overwhelming tingly feeling that controlled her body whenever those soft lips touched her skin. She wanted them against her lips...

Crack!

Without even noticing it, Hermione had cast an *episky!* spell and Draco was now staggering away from her, shaking his head. Hermione sort of stumbled backwards into Aiden who put a hand on her ass and gently squeezed.

Well, this caught both Hermione and Draco's attention. Hermione, craning her neck to see the man grinning goofily at her, elbowed him in the balls. Draco started towards them, but at the sign that was Aiden's face contorting into pain, Draco stopped to see the full picture.

Hermione walked briskly away from Aiden and put her back to the wall, standing next to Draco, who swiftly put an arm around her waist.

"Aiden. _. You mother fucking asshole. I'm the only one who's allowed to do that!" Draco was shouting at the poor boy, and when Hermione finally registered what he had said, she yelped, not wanting to re-experience it.

"Chillax, boss. I got it! Don't hafta say anything else. It won't happen again," Aiden winked. Draco was more or less fuming, but more interested in the contents of the paper bag that Aiden had been carrying, but now set down on the counter.

"Ahh, Aiden. What have you brought me today?" Draco walked towards the boy, greedily rubbing his hands together. Aiden grinned wickedly and patted the sack gently.

"New store they've been building by Madame Malkins? They're calling it an 'Adult Entertainment' store? Couldn't resist, mate." The boy had a glint of mischief in his eye as he let Draco peer into the bag.

The men's eyes widened, and Hermione was curious as they were to see what was inside the bag Aiden had brought, in that they now understood the wizard definition of "sampler" as it was labelled on the front of the bag.

Draco and Aiden were whispering things to each other about different products they were playing with, but not taking out of the bag. There was one thing that Draco looked utterly perplexed by, but Aiden whispered something in his ear and they both looked over at Hermione. Draco's eyes widened, but he nodded all the same.

As Hermione inched inconspicuously closer, she started picking up bits of their conversations. She heard things like "But why would the go in your mouth?" and "Yeah. No, that one tastes like cherries. Mmhm, chocolate." and other interesting little bits before Aiden saw her and whipped around, pulling the bag behind his back, smiling devilishly.

"Sorry, love. Big boys only." Aiden called with a wink, storing his possessions in the other room, well out of Hermione's reach. She pouted, crossed her arms and went over to stand next to Draco. He smiled and kissed the side of her head, and then transfigured a pink pencil into a rose for her. Hermione was flattered and she was leaning in to kiss him in thanks, when all of a sudden there was a ring at the door, signaling that someone was entering the shop.

Hermione quickly backed away from Draco and started walking towards the back room that Aiden had just left and Draco spun around, leaning across the counter, smiling at whoever was walking into his shop. And then froze, seeing the figure entering the room.

The long blonde hair, the perfect figure that his father so frequently spoke of, traumatizing the "Slytherin Sex God" before his well-earned nickname. Her arrogant, superior smirk painted onto her thin lips. She entered the shop with a swift stride and looked around briefly before her eyes fell on Draco.

"My darling!" Narcissa Malfoy cried and hurried towards her only son. Draco took a step back to embrace the woman who gave birth to him. She carefully held her son, her head turning awkwardly, and gently resting against Draco's chest, her arms wrapping around his waist, barely touching him save for a brief pat on the back. Narcissa backed away quickly, and Draco sighed and closed his eyes, to prevent his mother from seeing them roll.

"Oh, dear! This place has become a complete mess! And I was planning on inviting guest to come have tea with me in your sitting room..." Narcissa cooed with a slight hint of sarcastic disappointment in her voice.

Draco sighed.

"Narcissa-"

"How many times have I told you not to call me that!" Narcissa snapped, lividly at him. "I mean, please, darling. Call me Mummy." She placed what she thought to be a loving hand on Draco's arm and looked at him with a spurious pleading in her eyes.

Draco scoffed. "You may be the woman that gave birth to me, but you are not my 'Mummy'."

Narcissa feigned heartbreak and looked genuinely hurt. "My son..." She started towards him, but Draco turned slightly away from her, halting her movement.

"Narcissa," he started again. "I've told you all but too many times. This is not a café. I do not serve tea on things that I am trying to sell. Please respect that."

Narcissa sighed and closed her eyes before she twitched slightly. Draco caught the spasm and looked over at her. She was sniffing and twitching her nose like a rabbit.

"Draco..." Narcissa continued sniffing and fluttered her eyes open. "Are you now selling perfume? Because it smells awfully like this one muggle one I've taken to be quite fond of. You aren't selling it here, are you?"

Draco shook his head slowly, confused. It then hit him. Muggle girl's scent. In his store, right in front of him, where a minute ago, standing in front of him was-

"Hermione Granger! Get that saucy ass of yours over here and help me with these China cups!" Aiden's voice rang out through the store before some shuffling and then murmurs between the two other people in the shop. Draco heard Aiden's hand smack something and then a crash, and then loud cursing and another smack.

"DRACOOOO! HERMIONE SLAPPED ME! Ow! She did it again!" Aiden howled from the other room and Draco chuckled. But Narcissa didn't find it humorous.

"Hermione? Hermione... Granger? That hideous, filthy little Mudblood?" Narcissa spat contemptuously and was shouting by time she was done.

Draco was utterly flabbergasted by his own mother's actions. "Mother!" He gasped as Narcissa put on a sweet old lady act.

Hermione, hearing her name walked into the room. "Sorry, miss. Is there something I can help you with?" Hermione said with an amiable smile. Narcissa smiled sweetly back at her.

"Yes, deary. You can get the hell out of my shop, you useless Mudblood." Narcissa growled, but managed to do so with a face that any deaf man would have thought to be kind and elderly.

Draco, however, was not deaf. And nor was Aiden. So upon hearing Narcissa's remark about Hermione, Aiden swiftly walked over to her and put a comforting and protective arm around her waist, and Draco stood dumbfounded and appalled by Narcissa's words.

Narcissa noticed Draco's gaping mouth and put on a sweet innocent old lady act again. "Draco, dear. Close your mouth. It's impolite," she spoke kindly with a gentle hand that reached up and pushed his jaw up to close his mouth, but Draco shook her away.

"How could you say that! Mother, after everything that we've all been out through you have the audacity to say that this... This... Beautiful, magnanimous, selfless, ingenious, brave, beautiful witch in front of me is useless? She probably could have single-handedly defeated Voldemort and all of his followers on one day! Including you and Fa-"

"Draco, that is enough!"

The entire room fell silent from Narcissa's harsh outburst. Aiden looked like he'd just been walking in a wind tunnel, Draco was fuming, and Hermione was confused.

She was fully aware of the fact that Narcissa Malfoy was a cruel and foul woman, but had always thought that she'd have at least been kind to her own son. Directly after the battle at Hogwarts, the Malfoy's had left the scene and fled to France.

Upon their arrival in France, news had already reached the residents there, and they basically lynched and slaughtered Lucius. Narcissa left with Draco to return home where she had plead not guilty. The Wizengamot had agreed, but Draco never forgave her.

Hermione had supposed that they had never truly gotten along, and intended to ask him later that day, but never got the chance to.

Draco had been so furious that he ordered his mother to leave the shop, despite all her pleads. He hadn't spoken a word to either her nor Aiden since, unless he truly couldn't find something or needed one of them to get the door.

At five-thirty that night, Draco decided it was time to go home.

"Hermione? Come on. We're going home now." Draco had strode up to her and was putting his jacket on, expecting her to meet his request.

Hermione obliged and took her coat from the back room and bid Aiden goodbye. The two of them apparated home and Draco immediately plopped down on a chair in front of the fireplace.

"Draco," Hermione carefully made her way over to the sofa beside him. "Are you alright? After Narcissa's visit you seemed a little... Well, a little out of it. Did you..."

"Did I want to talk about it? No, Granger, I didn't," Draco rose and headed for the staircase. "And if you don't mind, I've got a date to get ready for." He had reached the top of the stairs and slammed the bathroom door behind him.

Hermione still sat on the couch, taken aback by his abruptness. Ordinarily she would have thought this to be normal for Malfoy, but after sharing a bed with him the night prior, Hermione had at least had concluded that he really wasn't such a bad guy.

But after seeing his behaviour today she was beginning to think that nothing had changed. But the last thing Hermione remembered before nodding off into a gentle sleep was thinking who in the world did Draco have a date with?

—•—•—•—•—

"Snork! I wasn't sleeping!" Hermione woke some three hours later, feeling cruelly unrested.

She rolled her head and moaned. Her neck felt funny. Her muscles were sore, and she was tired from running around with and from Aiden for eight hours. "I need a bath... I hope Draco won't mind if I just do it here..." Hermione's thoughts were interrupted by the sudden realisation of a pink package and scrap of parchment on the coffee table before.

_Hermione,_

_I'm story for snapping at you earlier. Clean up, take a bath, there are clothes for you on top of the dresser. When you start to run a bath, make sure you check first, then put this is with it. I should be back before midnight. If I'm not, I hope you enjoy yourself._

_Love,_

_Draco_

Hermione smiled. And then noticed all the flower petals around her. The rose petals.

_"Of course,"_ she smiled. Roses. She picked up the small package and decided to head off to take a bath.

She knew where it was, right next to Draco's room, and found the clothes he had mentioned on the dresser, as promised. Though the small pink lacy lingerie he had laid out for her was less than acceptable compared to her normal sleepwear.

_"Never worn anything like this for Ron..."_ she thought fleetingly of her soon-to-be ex-husband. Cheating on her with... With...

Hermione couldn't even bring herself to think about the woman who she had walked in on sleeping with her husband. The memory was too painful. And speaking of pain...

"Ouch!" Hermione yelped, realising that she had subconsciously walked into the bathroom and began running the hot water with her hand in the tub that was now filled with scalding water.

_"Well. Let's find out what this little package-" _Hermione's thoughts were interrupted when she thought back to the scrap of parchment.

_When you start to run a bath, make sure you check first..._

Hermione looked down into the tub and saw it filled with rose petals as well. She shook her head and smiled once more. And then looked back over at the sink, where she had placed the small package.

She picked it up and undressed quickly, and then stepped into the bath. Laying there for a minute or so, she opened the package and saw a bright pink something explode from it and a piece of paper come fluttering down from where it had exploded from the package.

Covered in thick, pink bubbles, Hermione grabbed the paper. In Draco's irritatingly neat scrawl it read:

_P.S. Open it away from you to avoid getting covered in suds._

Hermione rolled her eyes. Wonderful message, to have slipped into the package that she had to open to read. Wonderful.

She had a calm, and soothing bath, that lasted a little over an hour, and Hermione felt good and ready for bed by time she had decided to drain the tub.

Finding nothing else to put on, she slipped into the thin, pink, spaghetti-strapped mini-dress that was somehow nightwear that Draco had left out for her, and padded back into his room.

After slipping under the covers, and just before drifting off to sleep, Hermione thought of something.

Draco really was a nice guy now. Between everything he did for his shop, the way he kept his house, and now, the little things he did for Hermione. Letting her go to work with him, comforting her, letting her in when she had no one else to go to.

She thought of that, and how much she really loved roses.


End file.
